Violets are Blue

I drove down a narrow paved road that weaved its way alongside windblown sand dunes. I was looking for any sign of Kyle. Number 1021 was a two-story clapboard beach house directly across from the ocean. Very quaint and stylish, very Kate McTiernan. If Kyle got to her, I would never forgive myself.

A Scottish flag was flying above the rooftop, and that was pure McTiernan too. As I had requested, her six-year-old Volvo was parked in the driveway; the house lights were on, shining like beacons to guide me — and maybe Kyle as well.

It made it look like somebody was home, and now somebody was.

Everything felt surreal to me. My nervous system was spiking. My hairs were standing on end. I had a sixth sense that Kyle was nearby. I just knew it, felt it in every inch of my body. Was he, though? Or was I just crazy? I wasn't sure which outcome would be worse.

I drove my car inside the garage and pulled down the heavy wooden door. There was a cold spot at the center of my chest. I was having difficulty catching a breath. Or thinking in a straight line.

Then I went inside Kate McTiernan's house. My sense of balance was off. I was listing to the right.

The telephone started to ring.

I pulled out my Glock and looked around the kitchen for Kyle. I didn't see anything. Not yet.

Where was he?

The worst is yet to come.

Was I ready for it this time?

Chapter 113

I picked up the jangling phone, then hit my knee hard against the kitchen table.

"I've been looking all over for you, Alex." Kyle was so very calm and cocksure. He had no conscience, no guilt whatsoever. His arrogance was stu

"Well, I guess you found me. Congratulations. I can't hide from you. You're so impressive. You are the Mastermind, Kyle."

"You know, I am. You had me concerned, worried there, partner. I wanted to say good-bye in a proper and civil fashion. I'm leaving after this little adventure of ours is ended. It's almost over. Whew. Isn't that a relief?"

"Want to tell me where you are?" I asked him.

He paused for a half second, and I could feel a fast river of adrenaline rushing through me. My legs were unsteady. Suddenly I was afraid of what Kyle might have already done.

"I suppose it couldn't hurt to tell you. Let me think about it. Hmmm. There's blood everywhere, Alex. I will tell you that much. It's stu

My heart was pounding and I felt dizzy. I could feel the blood rushing from my brain. I steadied myself against the kitchen counter. "Where, Kyle? Tell me where you are. Where the hell are you?"

"Perhaps I'm at your aunt Tia's outside Bal'more," he said. Then he laughed like a madman. "Chapel Gate. Such a pretty little town."

A moan escaped from my mouth and my knees buckled. I flashed an image of my family — Nana, Ja

"Oh, am I, now? Why would I lie? Think about it. What would be the point?"

The worst is yet to come. I needed to call Tia's. I should never have left them.

I heard a terrifying high-pitched scream above me in the kitchen. What in hell?

I looked up. Couldn't believe my eyes. Kyle leaped out of the trapdoor to the attic. He was still screaming. He had an ice pick clasped in his right hand, cell phone in the left.

I tried to get an arm up to shield myself. I wasn't fast enough. He'd taken me by surprise. I hadn't thought to look up there.

He plunged the pick at an odd angle into my chest. A shock of pain traveled through me. I went down hard on the kitchen floor. Had he struck my heart? Was I going to die? Was this the way it ended?

With his free hand, Kyle punched me in the face. I felt bone crunch. The left side of my face seemed to have caved in.

Kyle raised his fist to strike again. He was madman strong and he wanted to punish me, didn't he? I was such an important character in his fantasy. He was so sick, so insane. I couldn't believe the things he'd done.

A voice inside screamed, Take him out; find a way!

A second hard punch glanced off the side of my forehead. I had moved just enough to make him miss. I was in a living nightmare. The stainless handle of the ice pick was sticking out of my chest.

I grabbed the hood and collar of Kyle's windbreaker with one hand, his black hair with the other. I yanked him sideways, got him off me for a moment.

Somehow I managed to get up and pull Kyle with me. We were both grunting, gasping loudly for breath. I felt myself getting weaker. Blood was spreading on my shirt from the wound.

Still, I spun him around and pushed him headfirst right into Kate's well-organized glass-fronted kitchen cabinet. It shattered on impact. Splinters of glass and wood flew everywhere.

I pulled his head back out of the cabinet, cutting Kyle's face on nasty shards of the glass. I wanted to hurt him too. For Betsey Cavalierre, for Zachary Taylor and his wife, for all the others he had murdered along the way. So many dead at the hands of this heartless monster. The Mastermind. Kyle Craig.

He screamed, "My eyes! My eyes!" I'd hurt him — finally.

I crunched a looping roundhouse right into Kyle's forehead. I moved in closer. I hit him again and again, then I held him up so I could hit him some more. I wouldn't let him go down. I kept body-punching Kyle Craig, body-punishing him. I don't know where I got the strength. I wanted to keep hitting Kyle, for everything he'd done: the murders, the cruel betrayals, stalking me all this time, the terrible hurt he'd inflicted on my family and on other families like mine.

He was out on his feet, so I finally let him drop to the kitchen floor. I stood over the unconscious body, exhausted, winded, afraid, and in pain. Now what? I felt as if I weren't myself anymore. Who was I? What was I becoming? What had all the brutal murders I'd seen done to me?

I stepped away from the body crumpled on the floor. The spike of the ice pick was still embedded in my chest. It had to come out. I knew I couldn't, shouldn't, do it myself. I needed to get to a hospital. Maybe Dr. Kate McTiernan would take care of me.

I made a phone call. A very important call.

This was just the begi